


False Pregnancies

by greymas



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: False Pregnancy, I love her, Mary is a huge liar, attempted suicide, but this turned into a good prompt, possible major character death, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greymas/pseuds/greymas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary and John are drifting apart<br/>What is her solution?</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Many tears will be shed.<em></em></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	False Pregnancies

John had loved Mary more than he could express. Not as much as Sherlock-- but the man was gone. Dead. He had learned to accept it. John had proposed, they planned the wedding... But with each passing day, he felt emptier and emptier. He didn't love Mary anymore-- and he could see that. The day he was going to call it off, she came up to him.  
'I'm pregnant.'  
He couldn't end it. Not there. Not when she carried their child. So he continued on with it, forcing himself to believe it was love.  
The wedding came. He was dressed in a silken suit. A woman helped him, a friend of Mary's. 'That pregnancy scare must have been pretty crazy, huh?' '...Excuse me?' he had questioned. 'Well, you two thought she had gotten pregnant. Glad that's been sorted out, though,' she laughed audibly.  
For months. She hadn't said a thing about it.  
Now he stands at the aisle, staring at his wife-to-be with tears in his eyes. She thinks it tears of happiness. He needs... He needs Sherlock. But the man is dead. The man who had been his husband was dead. Now, he stood. Replacing the love of his life with… with… "Do you take Mary Morstan to be your lawfully wedded wife?"  
John slowly stepped away, his eyes on Mary. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, before darting out of the reception. He found himself, hours later, sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. He was at the graveyard, silently pleading for his lover to return. Mary wasn’t who he had thought she had been. His love for her died, replaced by manipulation. He couldn’t do it. No matter the circumstances. “Please come back for me… you were the only thing I had.”  
Hours later, chilled to the bone and numbed, he found himself standing on the edge of a bridge, unable to differentiate the tears and the freezing drops that landed on his cheeks. It was night now, the water below rushing and swirling. “I think its gone now,” he managed to mutter, voice hoarse and quite. “But you can’t hear me… not yet, anyways.”  
“I think its gone now,” he repeated, far louder than before. It echoed over the water, his pain-inebriated mind yearning for an oh-so familiar touch. “The last chance that I had left,” he sucked in a shaky breath. “Your corpse is probably rotted by now. Hardly anything but bones and maggots, deep within the ground,”  
“But I need to see you. The _real _you. So… I guess I’ll try to be joining you in heaven. I don’t think I’ll go anywhere other than hell… But its truly my last chance.”__


End file.
